


School Bullies

by GroovyKat



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Bullying, Children, F/M, Pete's World, Pregnancy, School, The Oncoming Storm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-19 23:37:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4765223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GroovyKat/pseuds/GroovyKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor's son and daughter have a bullying problem at school.  He has to figure out the best way of dealing with it ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Finding Out

**Author's Note:**

> Taking a slight detour from Journey because I am mad and frustrated and I want a distraction. My special little Time Lord (he's gifted with Aspergers - in other words the living embodiment of Ten. I kid you not. He is Ten to a tee) Anywaaaaay. He has been mercilessly and horrifically bullied for the past two years at school, and the faculty don't seem to be all that interested in dealing with it except to blame the victim. (oh I could write a BOOK on this)  
> First day at school yesterday, and already he's been thrown to the ground and attacked ... So I'm either going to march into the school and wait for the parents of the little punk with a chainsaw in my hand, or I will do the less illegal thing and get my frustration out here in fic world so I can calmly talk it over with the principal.  
> This is born of my frustrations as a mum, and how I'd like to think the Doc might deal with it if he found out his ten-year old was being pounded in the school yard.

He was lying on his back underneath the grating of his TARDIS when he heard it: the cautious and slow opening creak of the TARDIS doors, the tiny little inhale of unsureness, and the pitter patter of junior size 13 converse shoes.

The Doctor didn’t need to draw on his parental telepathic bond to know just which of his children stood at the doorway and rocked lightly on her feet with clear indecision as to whether or not she should approach.   That behaviour was linked to only one: his second child, and eldest daughter, Lirreafinduvo.

The shiest one of his three children, Lirreafinduvo – or Lirrea for short – always treaded carefully around anyone. She was especially cautious around the TARDIS. Not that she needed to be, of course. The TARDIS was fiercely protective of his entire brood. She’d much rather see him hurt than any of his precious children.

That was a point rather well proven when she gave his fingers a hard jolt of electricity in warning for him to stop tinkering to see to his little girl.

“Yes, yes, old girl,” he muttered with a short and hard blow at his fingers to cool them down. “I heard her.”

A sound that could’ve been a TARDIS equivalent of an exasperated snort rattled down along the central column. He rolled his eyes at it.

“Down here, Sweetheart,” he called with a definite chirp in his voice. “Just doing a bit of maintenance on the Time Path Detector.” He sighed. “I don’t know what your brother did to it, but we had a slight disconnection from the Interstitial Antenna on our last trip. No big deal, mind. We still managed to get back home at a reasonable hour.”

A little blonde head popped down through the small opening and gave him a smile. “We returned almost a month later than we were supposed to, dad.” She dropped to her knees and then onto her belly to wriggle alongside him. “Grandma was mad because you missed Grandpa’s big party and she had to make excuses…”   She sighed in a very _Jackie_ manner. “…Again.”

The Doctor had to chuckle at that. Lirrea was exceedingly good at her impersonations. With that single word he could immediately picture Jackie’s huff and eye roll at her Time Travelling daughter and her _Time-Retarded Time Lord_ showing up late, yet again.

“Oh, but we had a good time, didn’t we, Sweetheart?” He said with a laugh. “Playing about on Ziypra’s lunar adventure tours? Remember that? You got to ride on a Slodalea and feed the Dradus. Oh, and what about the amazing Yucrorf sundaes? How many did you and I eat?”

“Princess,” she corrected softly.

“Pardon me?”

“I’m _Princess_ , not _Sweetheart_.”

“Actually, you’re Lirreafinduvo,” he corrected softly. “You were named after the beautiful maiden goddess who protects the precious wildflowers and majestic trees of Gallifrey.”

“Yes,” she said with a soft smile as she wriggled toward him and laid her head on his shoulder and nestled against his side. “I know. But I also like the name _Princess_. So you can call me that, yeah?”

He curled his arm around his child and did his best to lay his cheek against her hair, which was awkward given that they were both lying in a tiny little cubbyhole underneath the TARDIS console. “That’s your choice, then, Lirrea? Princess? You wish to be _The Princess_?”

She nestled closer against her father’s side and nodded her head. “Just _Princess_ is fine thanks. If I put the _the_ in front of it, it sounds awfully pretentious.”

“Well, so does _Princess_ ,” he managed with a shrug. He heard a hurt intake of breath and winced at himself. “Actually, no it doesn’t,” he spluttered in an attempt to backpedal. “It suits you – my little Princess. I like it! I love it even. Princess Lirrea. Oh does that have a wonderful ring to it.”

Her voice was incredibly tiny. “Are you saying that I’m pretentious, then, daddy?”

If she wasn’t lying against him, he would’ve slumped. Instead he let out a sigh and held her more firmly at his side. “What I’m saying,” he answered her softly. “Is that you are more precious to me than a _Princess_ , Lirrea. That term is so sorely inadequate for who you really are to me and your mother.”

“A Lady,” she ventured quietly.

“Even better than that,” he cooed with a kiss at her head. “You’re a _TimeLady of Gallifrey_.”

She giggled. “A _Time Lady of Pete’s World_ ,” she corrected him. “I was born on Earth.”

“Actually,” he replied. “You were born onboard the TARDIS which was floating in space overlooking the Lagoon Nebula.” He smiled. “Oh, Lirrea, what a spectacular moment that was. You burst into the universe ... _well okay_ … you were _pushed_ into the universe by your magnificent mother, and at that very moment a flare of brilliant gold burst through the scarlet clouds like an arrow through my heart.”

She sighed contentedly. “Cupid’s arrow.”

“Cupid no,” he remarked softly. “That is a very different form of love from what your mother and I have for you lot of little terrors.” He grinned. “And Cupid. Well. Now let me tell you about Cupid and how his legend managed to go from a slender winged boy to a chubby little winged cherub.”

“Daddy?”

His mouth was open and he was all set to launch into a rather detailed explanation of the origins of cupid and his involvement in the legend of the chubby little cherub, but his daughter’s tiny voice shoved that little anecdote back down into his throat. He swallowed it further and lifted his hand to stroke at her hair. Her tiny voice meant that something was wrong.

“Is everything okay, Lirrea?”

“Yes.”

Her little sniff told him otherwise. “Are you sure about that?”

“Mmmhmm.” She inhaled a sigh. “Keep telling me your story.”

“I think it’s about time that you told me one,” he said gently. “Come on. Let’s get out of here and have a sit in the galley. TARDIS made some chocolate and banana cookies and I think she just might have a chocolate milkshake waiting for you.”

“Mum’s making dinner,” she answered with defeat in her tone. “If I eat cookies and drink milkshakes then I’ll spoil my appetite.”

He pressed his finger to his lips in a conspiratorial manner. “She’s in the house. We’re in the TARDIS.” He felt her shake with giggles. “I won’t tell her if you don’t.”

“That’s keeping secrets, Daddy,” she challenged him with a poke in his side. “We don’t keep secrets.”

“No,” he answered along a slightly serious tone. “We _don’t_.” He wriggled free of the cubbyhole and dropped both hands to pull his daughter up after him. She stumbled as the toe of her pink converse got caught in a part of the grating, so the Doctor hauled her little form up into his arms to hold her against his chest. He walked in the direction of the TARDIS galley. “So. With that said. What’s on your mind, _Princess_?”

She stuck out her bottom lip in a most adorable impersonation of her father when he wanted something from her mother, and widened her little eyes as innocently as she could. “Nothing…?”

If he could possibly have melted into a puddle on the grating he would’ve. He was pretty much unable to deny his little seven year old _Princess_ anything on a good day (or any of his kids for that matter). So when she pulled out all the stops and widened her little hazel/amber eyes at him and pouted that adorable pout, he knew he was completely done for. If his little girl asked him to pull the moon out of the sky and put it in her bedroom as a nightlight, he would.

Absolutely…

The science of it be damned, of course…

He was a Time Lord – or half as it were – so he was rather familiar with Time Lord transdimensional technology. He could make a nightlight casing bigger on the inside to fit the moon into it.

…He absolutely could.

…Now to make up some plans to do just that.

“Daddy?”

He blinked himself free of his thoughts and cleared his throat. His voice was slightly strained and croaked when he answered her. “Yes, Sweetheart?”

“Princess,” she corrected. “And. No, I _don’t_ want the moon. Thanks.”

His eyes shot wide, but he didn’t look at her. “How did you…?”

“You were projecting very loudly,” she said with a giggle as she held up her hand and stuck her pinkie finger into the air. “Got you wrapped here, yeah?”

“With great power,” he warned with mock darkness. “Comes great responsibility. Use it wisely.” He dropped her tiny butt onto a stool at a breakfast counter in the galley and hooked his foot around the leg of another to drag it closer. He dropped heavily onto the soft white vinyl seat and leaned an elbow onto the table. With a smile he used a finger to push a banana-chocolate milkshake across the table toward her. “So?”

Lirrea used the suction through the straw to hollow out her cheeks and pretend that she was incapable of speech and therefore couldn’t answer his attempt at probing out the information he was looking for. Instead, she hummed a happy sound at the chocolatey treat.

The Doctor let a brow arch high over his eye and slid his hand across the table. He took hold of the stem of the milkshake glass between his second and middle fingers and dragged the milkshake away from her. Lirrea was left with big sad eyes and a straw hanging from her cheeks that was dripping milk splots onto the counter.

“Lirreafinduvo,” he said on a warning breath. “Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind, or are you going to pretend that everything’s okay and expect me to buy it?”

“If I don’t tell you,” she huffed with a slouch in her shoulders. “You’re just going to wait till I go to sleep and then go into my head and find out anyway, aren’t you?”

“I’m insulted that you’d think I’d do something like that,” he said with a frown. “I’d never do that. I trust you kids enough to be upfront with me.”

She walked her fingers toward her milkshake in hopes that her father was distracted enough to let her slide it back. “Or you hope one of us would rat the other out, yeah?”

“There is _that._ ” The Doctor’s eyes dropped to her fingers walking along the table top, and he lifted the milkshake glass to take a long swig of the banana-chocolately goodness from the edge of the glass. He let out a sigh of contentment as he licked off his milk moustache with a single swipe of his tongue. “Oh that’s good. So good. Just brilliant.”

Lirrea’s expression fell and she let her bottom lip quiver in hopes that he’d feel sorry for scarfing down her milkshake that he’d give it back. “Daddy?”

“Nuh-uh,” he panted with a toothy grin through an open mouth as he pulled the glass away. “I think I’m developing immunity to cuteness. Yep. Knew it. Knew it was coming. Oh yes, of course. That’s right. It comes when your Princess turns seven years, three months, two weeks, six days, eight hours, fifteen minutes and twelve seconds old.   And. Oh wait _wait_. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Oh yes! There it is. Twelve seconds.” He breathed out a pair of laughs. “Complete cuteness immunity in effect. No more wrappage of Time Lords around little pinkie fingers belonging to one Lirreafinduvo Sarah-Jane Tyler.”

She looked completely mortified by that. “No! That’s not fair!”

He gave her an apologetic look and shook his head as he shrugged. “I’m sorry, Lirrea, but that’s just the way it goes.”

“No! That’s not fair.”

She frowned and bounced unhappily on her stool with enough of a jump to shift the chair. The Doctor’s arm shot forward to try and stabilize both stool and child. “There is hope,” he offered quickly. “It’s reversible, Lirrea.”

She stopped bouncing. “Yeah?”

He nodded in a slightly frantic manner. “Of course. You just have to be honest with Daddy and tell him what’s going on.”

“And then you’ll think I’m still cute?”

“Oh yes,” he answered back quickly with a grin. “Absolutely adorable for all of time.” He dipped his head to his shoulder. “But if you can’t, then, _well_ …”

“It’s Markandrenotrubragramru,” she spat quickly inside a pant.

The Doctor sat up quickly. “What’s wrong with your brother?”

Her eyes filled with tears as she threw a look of pleading toward her father. “I promised him I wouldn’t tell you or mummy.”

“Oh,” he huffed worriedly. “Now you _have_ to tell me, Lirrea.”

“But he’ll get mad at me,” she moaned with her eyes tightly closed and her entire body slouched. “And then he’ll hate me.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t want Mark to hate me.”

The Doctor touched Lirrea’s elbow and tugged lightly to coax her to look at him. “Sweetheart. Look at me.” He waited until her eyes lifted to his. “Is Mark in trouble? Did he do something that your mother and I won’t approve of and will make us mad?”

Her eyes shot wide and she frantically shook her head. “No, Daddy. It’s nothing like that. Nothing!” Her breath panted out of her. “Mark did nothing wrong. Honest.” She jumped off the stool and quickly launched at her father’s chest. She clutched onto the lapels of his open shirt-jacket and buried her face into the soft crewneck T-shirt underneath. “He was protecting me. He saw that I was being picked on and just wanted to help me out.” She whimpered against his chest. “I didn’t mean for him to get beaten up.”

He clutched his little girl against him and then pulled her onto his lap. He ignored the angry tick in his left eye and rocked gently rocked his weeping daughter in an effort to calm her down. “It’s okay, Lirrea. Just tell me what happened.”


	2. Talking to Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor questions Rose about what's been happening with Mark and Lirrea

There was probably no faster creature on the planet – on any planet – than a naked three year old taking flight from a bathroom with a cry of refusal to take a bath. At least, that’s what Rose Tyler was thinking as she chased such a creature down the hallway of her house toward the living room.

For all of the wonderful and terrifying alien creatures that she and the Doctor had encountered and – more often than not run from - little Telialemrore was by far the fastest. Especially when it was bath time.

“Telia,” she hollered breathlessly to her sprinting child. “Come back here this instant!”

“No!” Came the vehement response of the naked little lightning bolt as she navigated the corner of the hallway and sprinted into the living room. “No bath!”

Rose huffed as she attempted to navigate the turn and managed to stumble with her shoulder against the corner of the wall. She let out a yelp and then a cry to her husband as he walked in through the front door completely unaware of the battle being waged.

The Doctor’s head immediately shot up at the desperate sound of his wife’s voice and he braced himself for whatever was coming. “Rose? You okay?”

“Catch her,” she cried as the little naked Time Tot made her swift approach. “Don’t let her get outside!”

“Ah,” he responded knowingly as he stooped to catch his naked daughter. He hauled the little squealing wriggler up against his chest. “Bath time?”

Telia frowned defiantly at her father and then straightened her little body into a rigid plank in hopes that he’d lose his grip on her. He did stumble a moment with the unexpected rigidity of his little girl, and let out a grunt of annoyance as he juggled her. “Telialemrore Penelope Tyler, you will stop this behaviour right now. It is very unbecoming of a Time Lady to defy her mother and refuse to take a bath.” He stooped forward to exaggerate a sniff and screwed up his face in disgust. “Especially when they smell like... Oh, by Rassilon, what _is_ that smell?”

Rose rolled her eyes at him as she held out her arms to request her put their daughter into her arms. “You really don’t want to know.”

“I think I do,” he argued with a disgusted look on his face. “So I can find the source and kill it with fire. No, better yet, I’ll take it up to the nearest black hole and dispose of it for all eternity so it never graces our olfactory systems again.”

Rose let her brow curl high. “You’d actually put something that smelled like _that_ in the TARDIS?”

“With adequate guards in place to prevent seepage of that foul aroma, yes. I think I would.” He yelped as Telia slumped into a dead weight on him and her little chest fell backward. He caught her, but only barely. “Settle down little Flubble,” he cooed as much as ordered her. “If I drop you it’s going to hurt. A lot.”

Telia narrowed her eyes at him and growled. “Not taking a bath.”

“Why not,” he queried with honest curiosity as to just what response he might receive. “What reason could you possibly have for refusing to take a bath and continuing to smell like Buacli larvae,” he paused. “Oh! Oh that’s it! That’s what she smells like! The Buacli larvae secretes this pungent smelling ooze…”

“Ooze being the scientific term for it,” Rose interrupted with a smirk.

“Quiet, you,” he chirped with a chuckle. “And it’s scientific enough.”

“And just _which_ planet do these Buacli reside, Doctor?”

He pursed his lips to consider that a moment. “ _Well_. Quite a number of them, actually. The Buacli moth is a bit of a hitch hiker. Get a pregnant one of those attached to your jacket or in your luggage, and they’ll pretty much survive anywhere.”

Rose pressed her lips together and nodded a thoughtful nod of her head. “So. These little hitch hikers of the Universe. They wouldn’t have happened to ended up on Ziypra, would they?”

“Well, no, not really,” he managed inside a grunt as his daughter struggled again. “At least I don’t believe so. Ziypra has some very tight quarantine restrictions and screening centres to prevent upsetting their eco systems.”

Rose nodded again. “Cryik, maybe?”

If he could’ve scratched at his sideburn he would’ve. Instead he lifted his head and managed the crinkling of one side of his face that would’ve been scratched at and hummed thoughtfully. “Yes. Come to think of it. I did read something on the TARDIS about prescription pesticide treatment on Cryik trees to combat Buacli.”

“Was that before or after you took the kids to show them the old growth forests up there?”

“Oh,” he answered guiltily. “That would have been _after_ our visit.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, but there’s no way that we picked up any hitch hiking bugs. The TARDIS doesn’t allow stowaways.”

“But if they’re brought onboard deliberately by a sneaky little toddler who is obsessed by bugs?”

He looked back to his daughter, wrinkled his nose, and looked back at Rose. “Tell me she didn’t.”

“Inhale deeply, my love,” she challenged him with a sly smirk. “And you tell me.”

“Oh.”

“Yes,” Rose breathed with a smile and a stretch of her aching back. “Very _oh._ ”

“I guess this means that I’m on bug-hunt duty for the next few days.”

Rose nodded and looked down at her eldest daughter, who had wandered in behind her father. She set her hand lightly atop Lirrea’s head and stroked her thumb through her hair. “How are you feeling, Princess?”

“Good,” Lirrea sang with a smile. “Would you like me to try to bathe stinky?”

“Would you mind?”

Lirrea’s face broke out into a grin. There wasn’t much more on Earth that she loved to do than to try and turn her little sister into one of her dolls. “Of course not!” She reached up to pull her sister from her father’s arms. “Come on, Telia. Let’s play bubble monsters and I’ll sing you a song about the itsy bitsy spider.”

To Rose and the Doctor’s complete surprise, Telia wriggled for freedom and eagerly grabbed at her sister’s hand and followed her back toward the bathroom and the waiting tub full of water and bubbles.

“Get your brother to help you,” Rose called down the hallway. She still carried a look of surprise as she spun on her heel to walk toward the kitchen. “Well. I better check on dinner then.”

The Doctor slid his hand into hers and interlocked their fingers together. “What’s on the menu for tonight?”

“Well,” she sang as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “Somethin’ special, actually. I got a delivery at Torchwood today from one of my favourite intergalactic suppliers and…”

The Doctor’s eyes widened as he finally registered the other aroma permeating through the air. “Oh,” he moaned as he closed his eyes and breathed deeper. “Oh, tell me it’s … please say it is….”

“Osnafoculty,” she purred seductively. “Just like your mum used to make.”

His brow arched a high curve. “You know. Being all sexy and then mentioning my mother in that same seductive breath.” His face screwed up tightly. “ _Well_.”

Rose rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Then it’s a very good thing for me that I’m not looking to get lucky with my Time Lord then, isn’t it?”

He thrust his hands into his jeans pockets and followed behind her with a cheeky grin on his face. “Lies. All lies.” He curled around between her and the wall of the hallway to walk ahead of her, backward, so he could read her expressions as he teased her. “And when you make such great efforts to fix me up a Gallifrey special, well, what else is my gorgeous wife looking for?”

“So very sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Yep.”

She rubbed at her swollen belly. “Actually, Doctor. I made it because your son was craving it.”

He pulled his hands from his pockets to press them gently against her belly. “Definitely his father’s child, aren’t you, Glencilludrican?”

“Glencilludrican?”

“Just trying it out,” the Doctor said with a shrug and a smile as he felt the flutter of his son’s feet dance across where he laid his hands. “We’ve got a couple more months for me to find the perfect moniker for the newest addition to our family.”

“Last week it was Dollyefurados,” she said with a shake of her head. “The week before that it was Umashinomsumus…”

“Both of which are fine Gallifreyan names,” he countered as they resumed the walk toward the kitchen. “Dollyefurados was a long standing council member who was instrumental in the creation and implementation of a planet-wide health care plan that benefitted both Time Lords and non regenerating Gallifreyans. Umashinomsumus was a renowned Gallifreyean scientist and professor whose study into Temporal Physics and the effect of revolution-induced gravity on temporal manipulation was ….” He paused at Rose’s tired expression. He pursed his lips into a classic duckface expression. “Without Umashinomsumus and his equations, Time Lords wouldn’t be able to so easily hip hop skip and jump through time and space.”

Rose smiled with a shake of her head. “While I’ve no doubt the importance of the names you’re trialling out for our new son, an’ that I fully support you wanting to give each of our children proper Gallifreyan names. Please take a moment to consider how we’re going to shorten it for the ease of the human ear.” She sighed. “Dolly and Umash? Those names will just put a giant target on his back.”

The Doctor’s expression darkened just slightly at that. “Speaking of targets. Did you know that Mark’s become one?”

Rose nodded as she entered the kitchen and leaned up against the counter for a moment. “Let me guess, Lirrea told you?”

“With some extreme persuasion that may have involved a suggestion about me becoming immune to her cuteness…”

“Oh you didn’t,” Rose said with a chuckle. “That’s the trump card, Doctor. You’re supposed to hang on to that one until it’s totally and completely necessary.”

He leaned against the counter beside her and crossed his legs as the ankle as he folded his arms across his chest. “She seemed upset. When my little Princess is upset, then I find it wholly necessary to do whatever it takes to find out why and make her happy again.”

“Sap.”

“Guilty as charged,” he said with a wink and a smile. The joviality dropped quickly however as his face took on an expression of seriousness. “So, this thing with Mark.”

Rose sighed and looked to the ceiling. “I’m working with the head master on it, Doctor. It’s become difficult because there’s no proof that it’s Christopher and his gang are the ones going after Mark and Lirrea. It’s just their word against his – two against six.” She sighed another long suffering sigh. “And when the parents claim that their spawn are sweet little angels that would never do such a thing…”

His frown was such that the permanently arched left eyebrow dropped into the frown. “Hang on. Did you say _going after_ , as in today was not a first time thing?”

Rose’s eyes dropped to his. “They went after him today?”

“That’s what Lirrea told me,” he answered her carefully. “At the cricket field after school. Lirrea said that she was sitting on the grass waiting for Mark to walk her home, and was accosted by six boys.

Rose looked mortified as her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my poor little baby.”

“Mark stepped in and ended up being pummeled by the whole gang.”

“Channelling his father no doubt,” she sighed. “He’s so much like you, Doctor.” Another sigh, only this one more huffed, and Rose dropped her head. “Which is why he’s getting into so much trouble with the bullies. Too smart for his own good an’ not too scared to tell people that.”

His frown was well and truly locked in place as he regarded his wife’s defeated posture. By the looks of her exhaustion about the matter, she’d been dealing with it for quite some time.

“Rose?”

“Yes, Doctor?”

“How long has this been going on?” He held up a finger before she answered. “And don’t lie to me to make me feel any better about it, I know when you’re not being honest with me.”

She swallowed a lump. “All year,” she practically whispered.

“What was that?”

“All year,” she repeated. “Mum and I have been at the school countless times meeting with the faculty to see what we can do, but we’re at a fork in the road now, and…”

“Why didn’t you tell me,” he queried with hurt.

She pushed off the counter and looked down her shoulder with obvious guilt as she made her way to the stove to check on the progress of dinner. “I thought mum an’ me could handle it.”

“But he’s my _son_ ,” he shot back sharply. “I should’ve been involved in this from the start.”

“And have you going all Oncoming Storm at them,” she snapped back.

“What’s wrong with that? These are my kids, Rose. If someone wants to push them around and try and hurt them, then I am perfectly justified in going all _Oncoming_ Storm at them.” He paused. “No. Forget the storm. I’ve got apocalyptic rights if someone goes after you or my kids.”

“You were off planet the first time,” Rose admitted softly.

His rant and the desire to continue to rant, fell immediately at her soft voice so full of apology. His voice came out of him in a voice as soft and apologetic as hers. “What?”

She raised her head to look at him and brushed her hair out her face. “You and Dad. Remember?   You an’ he had taken off to Poehr to take part in treaty negotiations between the royal houses of Poehr and Krubir an’ then got waylaid because the TARDIS blew a component in her Directional Unit…”

“And we arrived home five weeks late.” He sighed and scratched at his sideburn and recalled a full fortnight of having to share his bed with his wife and two clingy daughters while his son slept in a sleeping bag on the floor on his side of the bed. The kids hadn’t handled him being away for so long very well at all. It took that full two weeks to individually convince each child that he wasn’t going anywhere and that they were okay to sleep in their own beds. “Not going to forget that one any time soon.”

“Well that’s when it started,” she offered him sadly. “Your second day away, Mark came home with a black eye an’ a friction burn mark on his arm.” She sighed. “He said he got into a bit of a scrap – you know, boys will be boys.”

“It happens,” he gritted through his teeth at the mental image of his son with a black eye and a Chinese burn mark on his arm. “Boys will scuffle.”

“Well that’s what I thought, too, until he started coming home every other day with a new bruise and a new excuse.” She looked at her husband with desperate eyes. “I thought that by talking to the head master that I could get a handle on it before you got back.” She blew out a breath and looked down as she rubbed at her swollen belly. “But then you weren’t coming home, and it was happening again and again, and Mum and I were going to the school at least twice a week.”

He lifted his hand to her cheek and gently guided her face to look up at him. “Can I see,” he asked softly as he shifted his hand to touch his fingertips to her temple. His breath caught when she initially balked from his touch and shook her head. “It’s okay,” he promised with breathy tenderness. “I trust you. I know you did everything you could to help him. Just let me see so that I’m caught up.”

She closed her eyes and nodded slowly. She turned her face to press a light kiss against his wrist and then lifted her hand to hold gently at his and position it more comfortably against her face. “Promise me you’re not upset.”

“No. Not with you,” he assured her. “Never with you.”

He closed his eyes and breathed out a request for contact. This was essentially unnecessary, but it was a formality that he still clung to. Her consent was to immediately open her mind to his, for her to take his hand and lead him directly to the memories of she and Jackie dealing with the problems his son and daughter faced at school. He watched as Rose tried time and time again to get something done to help her boy. He watched as she battled against parents who denied that their precious little princes could ever do anything so hurtful as to bully another child. He watched as the tables turned and the accusations of assault in the playground were levered toward his boy, and Rose was left to deal with threatening and angry parents going after her.

He heartbreakingly watched as his little boy came home day after day with new bruises and barely hidden injuries – and a whole new slew of excuses.

“Going to the Head Master just made it all so much worse,” she offered defeatedly as she felt the mental embrace that he always offered her before he left her mind. “Mum and me, we didn’t stop, of course.” She scratched at her temple, where a slight irritation at their point of telepathic contact began to itch a little. “We looked into other schools, maybe put them into the private system, but Mark insisted that we wait until the new school year.”

He pressed a light kiss on her temple to calm the itch. “Why?”

She sighed and looked up at him with adoring eyes. “Because he’s just like you.”

One brow rose high and he pulled at his ear as he tried to work out _that_ reasoning. “What makes you say that, Rose? I’m the _last_ person who sticks around somewhere unpleasant.” He smirked and rolled his eyes upward. “The Academy and my first two centuries of existence notwithstanding, of course. I didn’t have a TARDIS back then. Now. Oh, _now_. I’ll take off right smart if I get stuck in something ugly.”

Rose stroked her husband’s face with her knuckles. “Because he wants to make it better for everyone else,” she answered with a smile. “He thinks that if he can hold out and take it, then no one else will have to.” Her head tipped to one side. “Sound like someone?”

“Tell anyone and I’ll vehemently deny it.”

“Where do we go from here, Doctor?”

He dipped his head to press his forehead against hers, and slid both hands along her jaw and into her hair to clutch at her with as much possession as protection. “From here I’ll handle it,” he vowed. “Make an appointment with the Head Master, and I’ll make the time to be there.”

“We have a meeting scheduled for tomorrow, already.” She slid her hands around his hips and thread her thumbs through the belt loops of his jeans to tug him a little bit closer to her. “With the parents of the ring leader.  I'll tell mum that you're coming along so she doesn't have to bother.”

“Brilliant,” he breathed as he brushed his lips against hers in a supportive and loving kiss. “I look forward to it.”


	3. The Human Way of Dealing with It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Rose go to the school to deal with the situation in the human manner. The Doctor is horrified to find out things are worse than he believed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is in this chapter... If you find it unbelievable in any way, let me assure you that I've had the very same conversation with my son's principal more than once. Each incident detailed I rather rudely snatched from the tales of my son's classes... So yes. It is most definitely in the realm of possibility... sadly ...

 

The primary school that his children were attending was set in a rather mundane looking building.  All bricks and concrete with very little in the way of grass or landscaping for the wee children to play  in during recess or lunch, it seemed more like a prison than a school. 

The Doctor had initially expressed his concerns about the facility and its lack of _life_ when he’d come to the original orientation meeting when Mark was enrolled.  He saw nothing that would capture the minds of his children to make them curiously seek out answers and ask questions.  No.  All he saw was a facility that was designed solely to turn imaginative and brilliant little minds into dull grey masses of obedience and submission capable only of staring blankly at the teacher in front of the room and sucking in the worthless information that the person at the front of the class deemed necessary to instruct…

..Inhale...

And, _well_.  What _was_ necessaryfor a tribe of Time Lords and Ladies in training?  Not anything this school could teach them, that’s for sure.  His brilliant kids were miles ahead of their classes _before_ they even set foot on the premises.  By Rassilon and Omega, Mark and Lirrea were solar systems ahead of the entire teaching staff put together.  What could they possibly learn in this place?

..Oh yes.  _That’s right_.  Instruction on how to get picked on by the lesser species.  _Of course_.  That’s a lesson both of his precious children _needed_ to learn _,_ wasn’t it?  Yeah.  Well.  Maybe it was time that these unevolved apes got a lesson in how more evolved species deal with …

“Doctor…”

Oh yes.  Half Oncoming Storm and half Bad Wolf, all of his kids.  Time to unleash their inner beasts and…

“Breathe, Doctor.  Breathe.”

He twisted his neck with such force to look at his wife seated beside him that the Doctor could hear his spine emit a groan of protest.  “What was that?”

Rose gave him a weak smile and lifted both of her hands to smooth out the tight crinkles of annoyance in his face.  “Relax, Doctor.  We can’t go in there all primed and ready to explode.  It won’t do the kids any good if we go on there an’ cause a rampage.”

He let his expression relax under her tender touch and sighed.  “I know, Rose.  I do.  But I can’t help it.  These are our kids – our beautiful son and daughter – that are getting picked on and…”  his face tightened up again into a scowl and he looked back out of the windshield of their car to glare at the building.  “And when I think about that.  Oh.  Rose, I want to go get the TARDIS, find a way to haul that building up underneath her so that she and I can fling it into the nearest sun like a slingshot.”  He grinned darkly as he motioned the action of flinging a slingshot.  “And then me and the kids can sit in the TARDIS doorway and roast marshmallows and tell fireside stories as the school burns.”  His grin fell and a look of consideration crossed his features.  “Of course, we’d have the issue of finding sticks long enough to toast the marshmallows and yet not get little tiny fingers burnt in the process.  A tough ask when you’re dealing with a sun as your campfire…”

“That would actually be amusing if I didn’t think you were capable of doing just that.”

He winked at her. “You bet I am.  Me ‘n TARDIS, we’re capable of many amazing things.  School building campfire in the sun, easy peazy.”

“And would I be invited to the campfire, Doctor?”

He grinned a toothy grin in response and bounced his shoulders ever so slightly.  “Of course!  WE could make it a Tyler family affair.  I bet I can even find you and the girls some really yummy pink marshmallows.  They have them on Obreyus you know.  They are a bright, bright pink but they taste like peaches – although they’re actually flavoured from a red fruit that the Obreyans call a Fruna.  Very delicious, actually.  The trees only fruit about once every five years, but the crop is always enough that the Obreyans can feast on them throughout the entire year – every year!”  His eyes widened even further.  “Oh.  Rose.  We have to take the kids there.  They have a festival of lights in the fall created by the royal family that is unlike anything you’ll ever see on any other planet.  You see, their upper atmosphere is so thick, it’s almost like wading through pudding.”  He gasped.  “Oh!  Pudding!  That’s a good idea.  Maybe we could ask Jackie to make up some of her plum pudding for us this weekend?  I know it isn’t Christmas, but, well, who needs Christmas for Plum Pudding?  Am I right?”

Rose gave an amused lick at her lip.  “King of digression _you are_ ,” she accused softly.

He frowned rather quickly with question in his eyes.  “Digression?”  His eyes shot wide again, as did his smile.  “Oh.  Yes.  Got off topic there, didn’t I?”

Rose turned in her chair to lean her cheek against the head rest.  She held her thumb and index finger closely together.  “Just a little.”

He snatched that hand of hers and held it tightly against his chest.  “As I was saying.  The upper atmosphere of Obreyus is thick, so very thick.  Anything smaller than, say, your dad’s mansion, wouldn’t be able to make the drop from space and reach ground.   It all gets almost held in place in the skies above Obreyus.   Burning like magnificent candlelight.  Oh Rose, you’d love it.  The Emperor launches a million dazzling Stones from the mines of Babrolara into the sky.”  He made a small sound of an explosion.  “And they fall into the thick soupy atmosphere of Obreyus, flaming hot balls, and they hang there.  Just.  There.”  He smiled wistfully.  “Like a million carefully lit candles flickering in the sky.  Imagine it, Rose.  Imagine how beautiful it looks.”

“It sounds gorgeous.”

The Doctor leaned his head on the headrest of his seat and nodded.  He lifted a hand to stroke a tender line down along her jaw.  “It’s the second most beautiful sight in the universe.”

“What’s the first?”  She whispered as she noted the slow and deliberate movement of his head toward hers.

“You,” he breathed as his nose bumped hers.  He lowered his gaze and watched his hand move a circle around the swell in her belly.  “Swollen with my child.  Now _that_ ,” he raised his head and grinned at her.  “ _That_ is the most beautiful sight in the entire multiverse.”

“Well,” the moaned as she shifted out an ache in her back.  “That would explain why you keep knocking me up, then.”

He laughed against her mouth as he kissed her.  “That’s _one of_ the reasons.”

Rose practically purred into his mouth as he deepened their kiss in a manner much more playful than it was romantic or passionate.  “What are the other reasons?”

He pulled back sharply and made a show of checking his watch.  “Oh, look at that, Rose Tyler.  We’re out of time.  Enough sitting around, it’s time for the Stuff of Legend to march on into the Head Master’s office to defend our offspring!”

“Defend,” Rose muttered with a sigh.  “Yeah. About that, Doctor.”

He was already out of the car and halfway around the vehicle by the Time Rose had gotten his name out.  She sat in wait as he practically jogged around to her side of the vehicle and opened the door for her.  “Your escort awaits, my lady,” he teased with a bow as he held his hand out to her.

Rose merely shook her head with a smile as she slid her hand into his and allowed him to pull her from the seat and gently lower her feet to the tarmac below them.  “You are a gentleman and a scholar,” she teased in her most posh voice as she smoothed out her clothing.

“I’m actually neither,” he chipped back with a wink.  He slid his hand into hers and lightly tugged to draw her alongside him as they walked across the car park to the office.  He practically purred when she curled around his arm as they walked.  “But I certainly can fake it well enough when I want to – as you well know.”  He then paused and a panicked look shot across his face.  “Rose.  I don’t have to…?”

“No,” she said with a laugh.  “This isn’t one of mum’s parties.  Just be you…”  She paused.  “The _human_ part of you, anyway.”

“Oh don’t tell me they’re racist…”

Rose snorted.  “No, they aren’t.  Equal rights and no child left behind and all that.  _Well_.  Unless you’re an alien.”

“So then they _are_ racist.”

“Uhm,” she sang softly as she considered it a moment.  “Let’s call it _species-ist_ , shall we?  As in terrified as all hell of aliens.”

“And quite right too,” he affirmed seriously.  “Because I’ve met quite a few _aliens_ , and I can tell you that there can be some pretty scary … looking …”  He paused and pulled his glasses from the chest pocket of his T-shirt.  “Speaking of _scary_.”

Rose looked first at the Doctor as he slid on his specs, then twisted her head to look in the direction that had caught his attention.  Her lips pursed immediately into a tight “O” shape. 

“That’s got to be one of the largest brutes I’ve ever seen,” he mused quietly to himself as they approached.  “Has Torchwood got any references to the Logrilian species in their databanks by any chance?”

“He’s not alien,” she assured him with a sigh.

“I dunno,” he muttered as he straightened up a little and tipped his head in analysis.  “Sometimes it can be hard to tell, Rose.  I mean, look at me.”  He leaned down conspiratorially.  “The Logrilians have a hollow like divot in their lower lumbar area.  I can grab him, hold him down – I know a great method of subduing them by the way – and you can take a…”  He straightened up and shut his mouth as they finally reached the man.  “Well.  Hello there big fella.  “

The _big fella_ ignored the Doctor in favour of looking at Rose.  “Tyler,” the man sneered with a raking look.  “You’re late.”

“Five minutes early, actually, Bevan,” she replied with equal disdain but additional politeness.  She looked around him to a petite brunette that seemed to cower at his side.  “Hello Nadine.  Nice to see you were able to make it this time.”

Nadine said nothing but offered Rose a look.  Bevan, on the other hand, seemed to puff out his chest to look down at the Doctor.  “And who’s this, then?”

The Doctor offered a beaming grin and held out his hand politely.  “I’m the Doctor.  Doctor John Tyler.  The lesser half of the Doctor and Rose relationship.”

Bevan took hold of the Doctor’s proffered hand and clutched at it far tighter than was necessary in an attempt to assert his obvious dominance over the other man.  When the Doctor didn’t even flinch, he squeezed tighter.

“You know,” the Doctor managed along a carefully controlled tone after a long moment where his hand was being pincer-gripped in the vice hands of a much larger male.  “I can name about one hundred and two planets where we just got married.”

“What?”

The Doctor took a calm look at where his and Bevan’s hands were joined and let out the quietest of sighs.  “And the longer you hold my hand in your attempt to cut the blood supply completely in my hand, the more planets that get added to that list.  One hundred and three.  One hundred and four.  One hundred and…”

“And I think that’s about enough,” Rose warned as she dropped her hand atop both Bevan’s and the Doctor’s hands to separate them.  “You can drop your pants and compare dick sizes later.  Right now, let’s just go inside and get this over with, yeah?”

The Doctor had to chuckle.

“That’s quite a mouth you have on you, Tyler,” Bevan snarled as they all waked through the main doors.  “No question on who your son gets it from.”

The Doctor’s attention was immediately caught by that, but it was Rose who responded.

“Actually, the origins of this _mouth_ you’re accusing my son of having are definitely seeded in this school.”  She cleared her throat and looked up rather arrogantly at him.  “If you were to hear any form of expletive erupt from my son’s mouth it wouldn’t be in any language you’d understand.”  Her voice lowered a few decibels.  “He’s smarter than that.”

“Ooh,” he retorted in a spectacularly juvenile manner.  “Because he’s so much smarter than the rest of us.”

The Doctor let his left brow arch a little higher than usual.  “I don’t even know you yet, but I can see definite superiority in my son over you.”

Bevan sneered down into the Doctor’s face.  “You wanna _go_ , then?”

The Doctor sniffed hard to inhale away his desire to do just that.  He gave himself a mental check and cleared his throat.  “How about we just meet with the Headmaster to discuss our children like respectable adults?”

“Are you a coward,” Bevan hissed against his ear.

“Any day,” the Doctor answered with a smile as he extended his arm to the doorway in an invitation for Bevan to walk through before him.  “Any day at all.”  He winced with annoyance not being able to grab the man by the scruff of his neck to drag him outside, hitch him up to the TARDIS and catapult him into the nearest black hole – or desert him on a planet infested with the most vicious creatures known in the universe.   Skaro might be a decent option.

..Here you go, Daleks … exterminate this!

“Doctor?”

He shook himself free of thoughts and cleared his throat.   He rewarded his curious wife with a gentle smile.  “Sorry, Rose.  Off on another world.”

She sighed.  “Would you mind coming back to this one for a quick moment?”

He hooked his thumb and finger under her chin and levered her face up to his to press a chaste kiss against her mouth.  “I’m right here.”

The quietly tender moment was interrupted by the Head Master rather harshly shutting the door behind them.  Both Rose and the Doctor jumped a startled jolt.  The Doctor was startled enough that he slid a protective arm around his wife’s waist and stepped ahead of her to put her safely at his rear.  He calmed at the matronly looking head of the school _pointing toward a chair._

_“Mr. and Mrs. Tyler, we’re glad you could both find the time to join us today.”_

_The Doctor waited a heartbeat for the same greeting to be applied to the other two parents.  When it didn’t come he frowned slightly and looked to the Head Mistress of the school.  “Thanks for inviting us?”  He gave Rose a puzzled look.  He lowered the volume of his voice to a hoarse whisper.  “You didn’t call this meeting, Rose?”_

_Rose sighed.  “No.  We were_ _called_ _into this one.”  She petted his knee and then flipped her hand palm-up in a request for him to take her hand.  She looked to the Head Mistress and clutched on the Doctor’s hand firmly.  “It’s my understanding that Mr. and Mrs. Grogan want to speak to me regarding their son’s accusations that Mark has been uttering obscene and foul language to him and his mates_

_The Doctor straightened up in his chair.  “Excuse me, what?”_

_Rose continued in a slow and obviously well rehearsed manner.  ”As with our previous two meetings, I’m here to discuss the incidences and see how we can work together from here to prevent any further incidences of this nature.”_

_The Doctor raised a hand and frowned as he looked off to one side in confusion.  “Oh hold on.  Hold on.  Hold on hold on hold on.”  He looked back to the Head Mistress.  “What?  We’re here for_ _what_ _reason?”_

_Rose swallowed and looked guiltily toward the father of her children.  “I should’ve been more clear.  We’re not here to discuss what’s been happening to Mark and Lirrea, but to address the accusations that Mark’s been a little uncouth around their son.”_

_“A_ _little_ uncouth,” Bevan spluttered incredulously.  “A Little?  Your son is a right little sewer mouth.”

“And your son is nothing but a little goon punk who likes to pick on little girls and beat up on the young boys who have the courage to stand up for them,” the Doctor snapped back.

“There’s no proof that my son’s done any of that,” Bevan replied with a pleased snort.  “In fact, there are never any witnesses to these alleged attacks.  Not even their friends can corroborate their accusations.”

The Doctor narrowed his eyes at the larger man and fought off an angry tic.  Clearly this giant was a thug in his own right and must’ve spent some time before judges.  How else would he be able to stop dribbling on his shirt long enough to be able to say words like _alleged, corroborated_ and _accusations_ – and understand their meanings no less – if he hadn’t heard them all about fifty times prior.

“What did my son say,” the Doctor finally managed in about as dark a tone as he’d ever used in his long – oh so long - life. 

The Head Mistress cleared her throat with obvious discomfort.  “I’d rather not repeat it, Mr. Tyler…”

“Doctor,” he corrected.

“Sorry,” she spluttered quickly.  “My apology.  Dr. Tyler.”

“Close enough,” he sighed.

“But I do have his comments written down for your review if you’d like.”  She held out a paper for the Doctor to take and offered him an apologetic look.  “I’m sure when you review the comments made by your son, you’ll perhaps understand why it is that the other boys react on him like they do.”

The Doctor didn’t look up from the paper as he read off the list of apparent expletives and foul comments that had been uttered by his son.  More than three times he let out a gasp of shock at what he read.  And once, he had to lean into Rose for a clarification as to what one or two of them meant.  He was clearly shocked, but shook it off with a clearing of his throat and a hard swallow.

“Now when you say _reaction_ ,” he began carefully without looking up from the paper.  “I will assume you mean that the other lads are running to tell the teacher on duty or responding with an inappropriate comment of their own.”  He could see Rose shake her head inside his peripheral vision and felt his eye tic just slightly.  Slowly he raised his head.  “Words for words, yes?”

Bevan folded his arms across his chest and snorted.  “Punch the little bastard.”

The Doctor twisted his trunk to fire a glare across at the big man.  “Excuse me, _Mr Grogan_ – a name I am beginning to believe to be wholly appropriate for a man like you – but you are referring to a _child_.  If we’re here to discuss the accusations you’re making about the language of _my_ child, then perhaps you should be watching your own.”  He clutched onto Rose’s hand tightly as though to anchor himself from leaping up and driving the lighted end of his sonic screwdriver into his brainstem. 

“I’ve read the list that you emailed to me a couple of days ago, Ma’am,” Rose injected quickly.  “And I have to say that of the twenty separate statements made here, I can really only maybe agree that Mark might have uttered two of them.”

“One is too many,” the Head Mistress suggested firmly.  “And when we factor in his recent meltdowns inside the classroom…”

“Of which Christopher was the direct cause,” Rose challenged with a thrust of her hand in Bevan’s direction.  “His son stood up in the class and asked for everyone who thought that Mark was a – and I quote – _fucking asshole_ to raise their hands.”

The Doctor practically roared.  “Hang on, _what_?  And you’re accusing _my_ son of foul language?”

Rose clutched at his knee to keep him in his seat.  She continued to speak toward the Head Mistress rather than to look into her husband’s furious eyes.  “Is it any wonder that Mark broke down and stormed out of the class?”

“That matter was dealt with,” the Head Mistress scowled lightly.

“You mean you dealt with the fact that Mark had run and hidden somewhere in the school by giving him three days of lunch time detention for it,” Rose snapped.  “What kind of repercussions did Christopher face?  Nothing, right?  Absolutely nothing.  My child had to watch as classmates raised their hands in response to Christopher’s callous demand, and was embarrassed.  Of course he ran.”

“Your son had this entire school on lockdown as we pulled the entire faculty to search for him,” the Head Mistress retorted.  “He was missing for fourty-five minutes.”

“And not a single phone call,” Rose snapped.  “This office didn’t bother to share any part of this with his father or I.  We had to hear about this entire incident from my Son.”

“Mark has to learn that…”

“And how about when my son was to do a presentation of the origin of his name, and Christopher incited the entire class to boo him.”  Her grip on the Doctor’s knee tightened and she found herself having to pant lightly to catch her breath.  “How can you expect him to maintain the behavioural standard you expect of him when he’s having to endure being bullied both in and out of the classroom?”

The Head Mistress stood up from her chair and paced lightly behind her desk.  “You have to understand the mentality of children, Mrs. Tyler, to understand where we stand on this…”

The Doctor tipped his head in warning.  “I’d appreciate it if you would drop the condescension that you’re displaying toward my wife.”

Bevan snorted.  “Is that your word for the week, _John_?  Do you even know what it means?”

The Doctor levered a furious glare toward him.  “As a matter of fact, I do.  Would you like me to provide you with the definition?  I can cite either Oxford or Webster – your choice.”

“I know what it means.”

“I find that rather unlikely,” he snapped back. 

“Are you calling me stupid?”

“I didn’t call you anything,” the Doctor seethed.  “However, I will state for the record and in front of all present that in the ten minutes that I’ve known you you have proven yourself to be the rather classic example of the inverse ratio between the size of the mouth and the size of the brain.”

Bevan launched to his feet with enough force that the chair behind him flew backward with a screech of metal along linoleum. “What did you just say to me?”

The Doctor immediately shot to his feet also, and stepped around where Rose was seated to put himself between Bevan and Rose.  “Would you like me to dumb it down a little for you?”

“Oh,” Bevan laughed dangerously as he punched his fist into his hand. “I can see where the little brat gets it from.  Coward nerd father, coward nerd son.”

“What,” the Doctor snarled.  “His intelligence?  Yep.  That’s on me.  He’s got my mind and consciousness – so do my daughters and my future son, and any other children Rose and I will have together.  And you know what – I’m damn proud of all of them.”  He took a breath and gave a raking stare up and down the man in front of him.  “I’d much rather they use their words and intellect over resorting to violent acts.”

“And by intelligence,” Bevan intoned blandly.  “You mean using words like _fuck_ and…”

“There are ladies present,” The Doctor interrupted sharply. “Watch yourself.”

“Gentlemen, please,” the Head Mistress interrupted tiredly as she pointed to the two chairs in a silent order for them to sit.  “The two of you trading barbs isn’t exactly conducive to the discussion of helping your children.”  She levered both men a stern glare of warning for them to sit down and then softened her expression to look toward Rose.  “Mrs. Tyler.  We have had many discussions about your son and the fact that he is having trouble fitting in with the other children…”

“Which is in no doubt attributed to the target that Christopher has put on his back,” she challenged.  “No child wants to associate with peer who is an obvious target to the local bully in fear that the bully will lash out at them too.”

“Are you calling my son a bully,” Bevan charged hotly.

“Yes,” she replied in a simple breath.  “Which is – trust me on this – the least offensive term I can think of in reference to what your son is doing to my child.”

“How dare you.  You’re lucky you’re a chick,” he snarled in response.

Rose heard her husband’s growl and clamped her hand on the Doctor’s knee to stop him rising to his feet yet again.  Her eyes shifted to Bevan.  “I think I would be more than capable of holding my own against you,” she muttered.  Her eyes drifted back to the Head Mistress.  “The Doctor and I will speak with Mark regarding his language in school, as I will hope that Mr. and Mrs. Grogan will speak to their son about his violence against Mark.”

“That will be a good start,” the Head Mistress said with a sigh.  “As I have mentioned to you before, Mrs. Tyler, it certainly would help Mark if he would curtail his tantrums in class and _try_ to get along with his classmates.”  She sighed.  “When children get frustrated, they do tend to lash out.”

Rose grit her teeth and tightened up her face.  “I understand.”

The Doctor shared his gaze between Rose and the Head Mistress.  His expression could only be described as perplexed. “You _understand_ , Rose?”

“Well…”

“Because I don’t,” he huffed sharply.  He looked to the Head Mistress.  “So you’re implying that you find the aggression toward my son and daughter is in some way _justified_ because he might be a little disruptive in class after being teased and taunted?”  He held up his hand and shook his head.  “No.  No no no no no.  No.  No.  Don’t answer that just now.  Let’s me get this straight.  So Mark’s been accused of speaking somewhat inappropriately in a school setting…”

“Swearing,” the Head Mistress clarified.  “Swearing and throwing tantrums in class.”

He pursed his lips.  “Tantrums born of the aggressions being shown against him, yes.”  He swallowed.  “So has he – my son – ever struck another child?”

“Well, no.  Not that we’ve been made aware.”

“So he has never lashed out at another child aside from these alleged swears.”

“Correct.”

“And somehow you – as the school’s principal figure – find it justifiable that the other children react violently against him when these incidences do occur.”

“Actually,” Rose said softly.  “It’s really only Christopher that is the violent one.  The other kids merely follow his lead in the taunts and teasing.”

“Ah,’ he breathed through an open mouth.  “The Alpha.”

The Head Mistress cleared her throat.  “Children do tend to react aggressively when they are frustrated.  If Mark can just settle in class and ignore any taunts or teasing, then he will find that these incidences will cease against him.”

“Hold on.  _What_?”  He looked toward his wife with look of complete and utter confusion.  “Is this really the kind of dribble that you and Jackie have been listening to these past few months, Rose? “

She nodded.

“I think my faith in humanity just fell another several thousand points.”

“How does it feel to be one of us, then?”

The Head Mistress ignored their quiet exchange.  “My suggestion is that you speak with your children about their behaviours.  Mr. and Mrs. Tyler, Mark is a brilliant and gifted young boy.  I am sure that if we continue to work together we can help him achieve his full potential.”  She then turned to the Grogans.  “Bevan, Nadine.  I extend our apologies and assure you that we will be working hard with the Tylers to ensure that this school remains a pleasant and safe environment for your son.  Good day to you all.”

The Doctor leaned forward and buried his face in his hands.  There was obviously no sense in continuing to argue.  After a moment he felt Rose touch a tender hand to his shoulder.

“Come on, Doctor.  There’s no sense in sticking around here.”

He pulled himself to his feet and thrust his hands into the pockets of his jeans.  “There’s nothing you can do, is there?”

“There is one thing,” she said softly as she strode through the hallway toward the exit.

“Pull our children from this school and find a worthy academy for Time Lord Children off world somewhere,” he mused as he pulled at his ear and kept his stare straight ahead of him.  “There are some rather decent options out there.”

“We can use that option as a last resort,” Rose said with a sigh as she pulled her cellphone out of her pocket and pressed the second speed dial number.  “I have a much better idea.”

The Doctor let his lower lip slide out just slightly as he watched Rose’s left eye slowly close in a wink of warning that she had something sneaky in mind.  In spite of everything, that thought made him smile.

“What do you have in mind?”

She held up her hand as the phone picked up on the other end.  “Hi Dad.  It’s Rose.”  She sighed deeply.  “No.  Not good.  Not good at all.  Same drivel as always, Mark’s always at fault.”  She sniffed and looked up to her husband’s supportive face as his hand slid into hers.  “But Dad.  I need a favour.  The TARDIS is going to be doing a materialization on school grounds, can you work interference for it?”

The Doctor frowned his eyes, but smiled.  “Rose?”

She held up her hand again.  “Not his idea, Dad.  Mine.  And I’m insisting he do this.  The Doctor’s been incredibly patient in letting us try to handle this the _human_ way, and you and me both know that patience isn’t a virtue he’s got.”  She snorted in amusement at an agreement from the other end of the line.  “No patience on your end either, Dad.  Oh no.  No no.  Let’s try a little Time Lord intervention before we sic Torchwood on them.”  She swallowed and nodded.  “Thanks, Dad.  Love you.”

She slid the phone back into her pocket and looked up into the Doctor’s hopeful face.  “Go get ‘im, Doctor.”

“Are you sure?”

“Your way is always the better way, Doctor.”  She sighed longingly at the sound of the TARDIS silently wheezing and groaning in the distance.  “Even if it risks a paradox for you to enter into your own time stream to do it.”

He winked as the whining and wheezing grew louder, and the winds picked up to announce imminent TARDIS materialisation.  “When it comes to you and the kids – I’ll risk the paradox.  Every.  Single.  Time.  No question.”

She rolled up onto her toes and pressed her lips into the side of his mouth as the TARDIS materialized completely only a few metres ahead of them and then dematerialized almost as quickly.  “Scoot then.  Suit up and make me proud.  Go defend our babies.”

 


	4. The Time Lord Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor deals with the Bully's dad...

~~oooOOOooo~~

 

Bevan stalked out of the office doors with victory in his gait and an arrogant smile on his face.  He belatedly took note of the fact that his wife wasn’t on his heels, but not until he’d walked into the car park and made his way toward his vehicle.  With a huff of annoyance at having to wait, he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and popped a white stick in between his lips.  A curse toward his wife erupted from around the cigarette as he cupped a hand over the end of it to light up and inhale deeply.  Another curse mumbled around his cigarette as he struggled to light a convenience-store lighter through a sudden gust of winds that picked up at around the same time an unearthly whining and wheezing sound drowned out the sounds of birds and mild traffic of the area.

He frowned as he struggled yet again to flame his lighter and smacked it against his hand as though beating the small container would somehow spark it to life.  “What the bloody hell is wrong with this thing…”

“You know that smoking is extremely bad for your health?”

Bevan growled at the familiar voice and looked up from the lighter.  Now that there wasn’t a School Head Mistress to stop him, perhaps he and _Doctor Tyler_ could deal with this situation like two men should…

…Instead, he gasped enough that the white stick fell from his lips and dropped down into grated flooring at his feet.

“What the _fuck_?”

The Doctor had his hands thrust deeply into his trouser pockets and leaned against the mushroom-shaped console of his beloved ship.  He had his legs crossed at the ankle and tapped the toe of his Converse shoe on the floor.

“Welcome to the TARDIS.”

Bevan let out a startled yelp and backed up against a coral strut.  “What the hell?  How did I get in here?  Did you kidnap me or something?”

The Doctor let out a huff and shook his head.  He calmly released a hand from his pocket and flipped up a lever on the console.  He watched the shifting of the central column and smiled at the blue-green glow that filled the console room.

“How did you get in here,” he answered with a bored tone.  “ _Well_ , if I’m to be honest, I have to say that it wasn’t _my_ choice to pull you onboard.”  He inhaled a sigh.  “Safety protocols of my ship make it impossible to land on top of any sentient creatures, and so she’s forced to materialize around you instead.  My intention wasn’t materialization…”  He frowned and finally cast his eyes toward his visitor.  “Maybe that’s one of the circuits I should work on next.  What do you think, old girl?  Should we fix that little problem of yours?”

“Your _what_?” He gasped as the Doctor pulled away from the console and took a couple of confident strides toward him.  Gone were the relaxed jeans, t-shirt and shirt jacket combo that Doctor Tyler wore in the Head Mistress’ office.  Absent, also, was the casual expression and friendly face that he wore during the meeting.  Even in the midst of a verbal battle, the man looked timid and casual.

Now, however.  Dressed in a blue and rust pinstriped suit and tie covered by an ankle-length trench jacket, with his hair artfully tousled into a trendy spike, Doctor Tyler looked less like a Soccer Dad and more like a professional yuppy father … Well … that would have been an apt description if it wasn’t for the darkened scowl that he wore on his face.

“Who are you,” Bevan growled in what he believed was a threatening voice.

The darkness within the Doctor immediately vanished to be replaced by a rather jovial and friendly expression.  “Oh,” he chirped.  “That’s right.  We haven’t been properly introduced, have we?”

Bevan took a quick look around him.  “No.  I guess we haven’t.”

“Then lets change that shall we,” the Doctor said with a smile that quickly darkened once more.  “Do you want to start, or shall I?”

“You know who I am,” Bevan charged with a snarl.

“I know that you’re an unevolved ape who thrives on belittling others in order to make himself feel like a big man.”

“You looking for a fight?”

The Doctor snorted.  “And in five words you prove my analysis.”  He let one side of his mouth lift in a dark smile.  “A physical altercation isn’t exactly my intention, but I’m certainly not opposed to having a rumble if that’s what you think it’ll take to make you listen to me.”  He let his trench coat slide off his shoulders and hooked his hand underneath it to toss it onto the jump seat.  He then undid a button on his blazer and paused with a look to Bevan. “Well?  Are you going to prepare for battle?”

Bevan curled a lip.  It twitched just lightly.  “You’re not worth my time.”

“No?”

Bevan raked a glare up and down the Doctor’s lithe form and snorted.  “Nah.  I’d break you in two with a snap of my fingers.”  He looked at the doors.  “I’m leaving.”

The Doctor feigned a look of surprise.  “Oh.”  He then thrust his hands into his trouser pockets and shrugged with a look to the doors.  “Then by all means, if you want to go through those doors, then go right ahead.”  He inhaled a deep breath.  “Don’t let me stop you.”

Bevan probably should have taken his nonchalance as a warning, but he didn’t.  Instead he rolled his eyes and strode with a fast gait and a hunch in his shoulders toward the doors.  “Keep your kid in line, asshole, or I won’t be giving you a break.”

The Doctor smirked and leaned his shoulder against a coral strut.  “Sure thing.  Will do.  Have a great day then.”

Bevan growled as he stalked to the doors and twisted the latch and flung open the doors.  He motioned a movement to storm over the threshold, but let out a startled yelp at what he saw beyond the doors.

“What the fuck?”

The Doctor tsked a pair of clicks.  “Now now, do mind your language.  My ship is a lady and commands respect from her passengers.”

Bevan staggered a step backward and clutched desperately at the swinging door of the TARDIS.  “What.  What?  _What_?”

The Doctor looked over Bevan’s shoulder at the beauty outside the door.  “Oh, this is where we ended up.  How brilliant.”  He stood close enough to Bevan that the man was forced to remain at the very edge of the TARDIS doors.  “ _That_ , Mr. Grogan, is what remains of a once magnificent sun that was the centre of the Fredunion galaxy.  The Sun collapsed into itself – _oh_ – about seven hundred years ago.  She was young – so very young – when her lifecycle ended.  Only one hundred billion years old.  Her demise has taken with her about three galaxies over the course the last seven hundred years.”  He leaned a little closer to the man in front of him.  “I watched her go when I was in my first incarnation– from the telescopes on my home planet, of course.  You don’t want to be near a sun when she goes into total collapse.  It can be very uncomfortable.”

“What,” he spluttered.  What?”

“Black holes are amazing creatures,” the Doctor continued.  “They’re ravenous beasts that eat everything that gets too close.  She doesn’t discriminate.  She’ll devour anything:  Ships, Stars, Comets…”  He chuckled deeply.  “…Human Apes that get thrown into them by pissed off Time Lords…”

Bevan spun quickly.  He moved fast enough that he stumbled, barely remaining in the ship.  Had it not been for his grasp on the TARDIS doors, he would have tumbled out the doorway.  “Who are you?”

The Doctor smirked.  “I’m a father concerned for the safety of his child.”  He looked out the door.  “So.  Are you leaving, or are we going to finish our discussion and try to reach an agreement about how to deal with what’s happening with our children?”

“I can’t leave,” he snarled with a hard point toward the door.  “Can I?”

The Doctor shrugged.  “I’m not keeping you here.  You’re free to leave.”

“Take me back home,” he growled.  “Take me back to Earth.”

The Doctor screwed up his face as he considered the order.  After a moment he shook his head.  “Nope.”

“What do you mean _nope_?”

“Nope.  No.  Nyet.  Non.  Nah.”  He arched a brow.  “Is that enough negative responses for you?”  He looked back out the doorway.  “But step off if you’re that eager to leave.  I won’t be offended.  My ship might, she’s quite the sensitive type.  Me?”  He shrugged.  “I don’t care either way.”

Bevan stumbled past the Doctor to put himself deeper inside the ship.  Once assured that he wasn’t at risk of tumbling out the door, he straightened up and glared at the Doctor.  “You’re insane, you know that.”

“Oh, that’s been said more than once,” the Doctor answered with a chuckle as he closed the doors of the TARDIS and turned to face Bevan.  “I believe there might even be a certificate that verifies that diagnosis somewhere in here.”

“Who are you?”

“Hmmmm,” he hummed with a scratch at his sideburn.  “That really depends on the situation, doesn’t it?  I’m a husband, a father, a scientist, holder of a mortgage and a car loan.”  He sighed.  “Debt.  So much debt to live on this planet in this parallel.  Everything’s at a cost, isn’t it?”

“Answer me.”

The Doctor’s brows shot up.  “Oh.  I thought I _was_ answering your question.”  He pressed his lips together and nodded with a roll of his eyes.  “Of course in a rather round about method I suppose.  But I like to think that I am many things.”  His eyes darkened, however.  “But essentially, at my very core, who am I?”

Bevan clenched his fists at his sides and growled.  “Add asshole to that list will you?”

The Doctor let out a short laugh.  “Oh, I could do that, and I admit to having been called that more than once as well.  Not always in English, though.  There are variants to that insult from planet to planet, of course.”

“Planet to planet.  Black Holes.  Who.  Are.  You?”

The Doctor grinned.  “Oh.  Who I am, Mr. Grogan, is a man who you really don’t want to cross.”  He snorted a bull’s snort.  “And upsetting my wife and my children cross me in ways not even the Daleks can.”  He grinned.  “And if a Dalek can drive me to genocide, then what will I do to a man who threatens my children and upsets the truest love of my many lives?”

Exasperation mixed with fear made Bevan growl a stuttered moan.  “Lives?” 

“Yes,” he answered flatly.  “Lives.”

“How?”

“I am the Doctor,” He said finally.  “I’m a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey in the constellation of Kaserborous.  I am 915 years old and in my tenth, no, _eleventh_ incarnation.  I am known as the Oncoming Storm, the Destroyer of Worlds, and the killer of his own kind.”  He stalked a pair of strides forward.  “I was exiled to this parallel by my brother who deemed me too dangerous to remain with him after I killed every member of a Dalek battle fleet in the fulfillment of a prophesy made by an insane squid-like creature.”  He stood before Bevan and smirked at the fear in his eyes.  “I was left on this world with no TARDIS, no regenerations, only one heart, one life to live.  All I had were the clothes on my back and the hand of Rose Tyler to hold on to.”  He smiled at the thought of his wife and the life given to him by the full Time Lord on Bad Wolf Bay.  “Which, considering the alternative of travelling all of time and space alone where the hold of a human’s hand withers and dies in the blink of an eye, is not so bad.  Rose Tyler.  The wonderful blonde shop girl who sacrificed everything and saved an old Time Lord’s soul.”

“No…”

“So you can imagine,” he warned darkly.  “Just how much it upsets me when my Rose Tyler is hurting.”  He growled.  “My fury only grows when any one of the precious children Rose has gifted me with is hurt or treated poorly.  My wife and children are my entire universe, Mr. Grogan.  There is quite literally no power in the entire multiverse that will stop me from doing _anything_ it takes to keep them safe and ensure their happiness.”

Bevan shuddered at the chill in the Doctor’s voice.  “You.  You’re an _alien_?”

“Yep.”  The Doctor smiled.  “Boo!”

Bevan let out an almost feminine yelp and stumbled back down onto his ass.  He shuffled backward to escape, but found his retreat being shadowed by the hulking Time Lord that followed his every shift backward.

“Get away from me!”

“Your only escape is to throw yourself into a black hole, Mr. Grogan.”  He thumbed back to the door.  “So.  Off you go.  Leave.  I’m not going to stop you.  In fact I’ll give you a hand if you want me to.”

Bevan raised his hand up to cover his eyes in hope that by blocking the image of the Doctor from sight that the man himself would disappear.  “What do you want from me?”

“I want you to be a man,” the Doctor bellowed.  “Be a man.  Be a father.  Teach your lad compassion, not aggression.”  He leaned over the cowering man.  “Tell him to leave my son alone.”

“Fine!” he yelled.  “Fine.  I’ll do it.”

“Swear it,” the Doctor ordered.  “Swear on it.”

“I swear.  I swear.”  He panted.  “Just for God’s sake take me home.  Just take me home.  I don’t want to be here anymore.”

The Doctor moved quickly toward the console of his ship.  With a grin that was only slightly victorious, he flicked up a lever from the underneath of the TARDIS console.  The whining and groaning of the engines roared up loudly.

“We’re on our way,” he said with a smirk.  “You’ll be back home only two seconds after you left.” 

“But how?  We’ve been here for a half hour?”

He grinned.  “I’m a Time Lord,” he answered as though it was all the explanation required.  His smile fell.  “But don't go and tell anyone,” he warned.  “We’ll keep that as our secret.”

“And if I don’t?”

The Doctor grinned his manic grin as he petted the console of his ship.  “Then me ‘n TARDIS will just have to pay you another visit won’t we.”  His look darkened.  “And next time, the black hole of Fredunion will get an ape-sized meal.”


	5. Father and Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and his son, Markandrenotrubragramru have a chat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end to the story. Mainly just fluff between the Doctor and his little guy.  
> Thanks for following along on this wee journey!

The Doctor strode into the TARDIS console room in a pair of jeans stained with grease and his hair full of the same. He wiped at his hands with a rag that was once one of Lirrea’s flannel receiving blankets and muttered under his breath about the difficulty of removing grease from his nailbeds. He looked up with a smile as he heard a teasing chuckle from the jump seat.

“Need me to ask mum to book you an appointment with her and Nanna at the nail salon?”

The Doctor grinned an open-mouthed smile at his eldest child and huffed out a pair of laughs. “Why yes, Markandrenotrubragramru my boy. Let’s do just that. I’m sure that your sister would gladly pick out the right kind of pink to match my hair and eyes.” He wriggled his fingers toward his son. “Whaddya think? Hmm?”

Mark lowered and shook his head. His shoulders bounced in a chuckle. “You’d make her week, Dad. You really would.” He lifted his gaze and looked upon his father with an amused smile. “Especially if you let _her_ paint them.”

“I already did that,” the Doctor answered with a shrug. “The same day that I fell victim to her hair styling techniques and make-up application.”

“And didn’t you look so pretty when she was through with you?”

“I did, didn’t I?” The Doctor smiled smugly. He then frowned slightly. ”The pretty ribbons in my hair and the bright red lipstick I could take off easily enough.   Not the nails, though. _Not_ the nails. I had pink and purple polka dotted fingernails for a week because she hid the remover from me.”

“And you can’t honestly tell me that you couldn’t find another method to take it off?”

“And break her little heart? Nah,” he answered with a wink. “She was so proud of the job that she did on them. It was the first time she got it _perfect_. How could I possibly be a man while I shatter her pride by immediately taking it off.”

“How can you be a man by keeping it on, Dad?”

The Doctor fell heavily onto the jump seat beside his son and threw an arm across his shoulder. “Define _man_ to me, Mark.”

Mark lifted a brow and then rolled his eyes. “Noun, verb or exclamation?”

“Smartass.”

Mark chuckled. “I’d rather be a smartass than a dumbass.”

“Don’t let your mother hear you say things like that.” He leaned back in the chair and looked toward his son. “And speaking of speaking inappropriately. Mark. What’s this I hear about you uttering obscenities at school?”

Mark threw his head back and let out a groan as he slumped down heavily in his seat. “ _Once_ , Dad. Just the _once_. Three months ago! I lost my temper and told Christopher that he can go … go …” He winced. “That he can go and … copulate with a being holding an identical genome…”

The Doctor tried not to laugh. Honestly he did. He even held it together enough to ask: “Is that actually how you said it … or…?”

“ _Well_ ,” Mark droned in a manner too much like his father. “My exact words were _“Why don’t you go copulate with an autogenous identic genome”_ and, well. He didn’t’ get it, did he?”

The Doctor had to bite at his lips to fight his smile. “Mmmhmmm?”

Mark slouched further. “So I had to define it for him, didn’t I?” He folded his arms around himself and actually managed to sink further into the chair. “Which means I had to utter it in all its obscene glory. Which shouldn’t really have gotten me into trouble at all, should it? I only said it because the jock ape was too stupid to understand the polite way of saying it.” He straightened up. “I was merely defining a statement to a peer who didn’t understand the technical term for it.”

The Doctor spit out a laugh that he could no longer hold back. It took a punch at his chest and a rough clear of his throat to compose himself to continue. “One: There’s really no polite way of saying that, Mark. Two: You shouldn’t be saying things like that – in its _polite_ form or its obscene form.”

“It’s not like you’ve never said it.”

“I have never said any such thing,” the Doctor barked incredulously. “Why would I even consider that to be an insult when more than one third of all the species out there in the universe utilises mating with oneself is their only method of propagation?”

Mark narrowed his eyes at his father in a playfully challenging glare. “You’ve never listened to yourself when you’re driving, have you?” He panted out a pair of “Nuh-uh” breaths when the Doctor looked with confusion toward the Time Rotor. “I don’t mean when you’re piloting the TARDIS. Gee. She’d toss you out her doors if she heard you speak like that.”

“I’d expect no less of her,” he muttered indignantly.

“I mean when you’re in the car.” Mark grinned widely. “You spat out that exact phrase – the obscene version – in high Gallifreyan to a jerk in a convertible who cut us off on the highway only three weeks ago.” He smiled. “Remember? When he flipped you off? You were driving me to that astronomy lecture at the observatory.”

“Ahh,” he breathed. “I think you misheard me. Understandable that, given that you are early in your Gallifreyan language studies.” He scruffed at his hair. “Rookie mistake. Easy mistake. We Time Lords really didn’t have any obscenities in our language – you know, being that we are a distinguished species above all of that nonsense.”

Mark licked at his lip, raised a brow, and fired off a phrase in rapid and flawless High Gallifreyan. The Doctor gasped and immediately covered his son’s mouth with his hand as he looked with terror toward the doorway. “By Rassilon, Markandrenotrubragramru. Don’t ever let me or TARDIS – or. Your. Mother. – hear you say that again.”

“But why not,” Mark queried with a smile against his father’s hand. “If Gallifreyean has no bad words or phrases, then what I’ve said is perfectly fine to repeat.”           

The Doctor pursed his lips and slouched deep as he released his son’s mouth from his grip. “You’ve been doing extra study with TARDIS, haven’t you?” He looked at his ships central column. “You’re supposed to be a _proper_ girl. How could you teach my son phrases like _that_?”

Mark grinned. “She’s like that really cool aunt…”

The Doctor smiled as he dropped his eyes and shook his head. “Do me a favour, Mark. Actually make that two. One, please don’t tell your mother. Two, please don’t go about using profanity – especially to your classmates.” He looked to his child and offered him a smile. “If you want me and your mum to go up to bat for you, then we need to know that your plate’s clean – if you know what I mean.”

Mark nodded. “Yeah, Dad. I know.” He dropped his elbows onto his knees to lean forward. “What they’re saying, though.   It’s not all true. I mean, yeah, okay. I’ve stormed out of class once or twice, but only when it comes down to either walking out or punching him.”

“Christopher?”

Mark nodded. “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you come to me, Mark,” The Doctor queried softly. “Why did you think you could take this on by yourself?”

“I wasn’t doing it by myself. Mum was helping me out,” he responded with a sigh. “She was doin’ what she could to help out.” He shrugged. “And you know mum.   If she can’t fix the world and make people change – then no one else can.” He looked at his dad with an apologetic smile. “Not even you.”

“That may be true,” The Doctor ventured. “But believe it or not there is a power greater than your mother.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep. Your mum _and_ your dad. Together.” He slid his arm across his child’s shoulder. “By ourselves your mum and I are a heck of a force to be reckoned with. But together.” He blew out a breath through pursed lips. “ _Together_. Oh, when me and your mum join forces, then we become an unstoppable force. The stuff of legend. The Doctor and Rose Tyler!” He pulled Mark toward him and pressed his lips to the side of his head to mutter into his hair. “And when one of you kids is in trouble – Mark – know that we’ll do anything. _Anything_ to get you through it.”

“I know, Dad.”

“Don’t shut me out again, please?”

Mark ducked inside his father’s hold. “I won’t.”

“Promise me?”

“Promise.”

The Doctor released his child from his embrace and slid off the jump seat. “So anyway,” he muttered as he wiped his palms on the dirty thighs of his jeans and strode toward the console. He flicked on the onboard computer to see the diagnostic information from his latest bit of tinkering. “What brings you in here, anyway. I thought you had piano practice this afternoon.”

“Got cancelled,” Mark murmured with a shrug.

“Yeah?”

“By mum,” Mark clarified. “She decided that me coming to find you was a little more important than piano practice.”

The Doctor frowned an expression of puzzlement and looked to his son. “Find me?” He shook his head and went back to the computer. “She knows _exactly_ where I am. She was the one who exiled me here.”

Mark snorted out a bursting huff of amusement that could have been a laugh, a cough, a sneeze. “You’ve been exiled?”

“For lack of a better term, yeah.” He looked up. “In fact. Your mother’s exact words were: _just leave. Go hide in the TARDIS, you inconsiderate git!_ ” He shrugged and had the grace to look at least a little chagrined.

Mark’s huff of amusement turned into a cackle of pure and brilliant joy. “What did you _do_?”

“I ate the last Jammie Dodger.” He had to smile at the contagion that was his son’s laughter. “In my defence I didn’t know she’d already scarfed her way through two other packs before I got to that last biscuit. I thought there were plenty left.”

Mark wiped at a tear from his eye and slid off the jump seat to stand beside his father. “How long ago was this?”

“’Bout three hours.”

“And you still haven’t gone to get her more?”

The Doctor looked surprised. “Was I supposed to?”

“Well, yeah,” Mark answered along a condescending breath. “You eat the last one, she loses her mind, you get sent out into the TARDIS.”

“And what part of that is her telling me to get her more?” He pursed his lips at the flat stare his son was rewarding him with for that question. “Ooh. Oh. I get it. I’m supposed to just _know_ that’s what she meant?”

“Yeah.”

“Why can’t she just come out and say _Doctor, please go get me some more Jammie Dodgers seeing as you were such an inconsiderate sod as to eat my last one_? I’m not a mind-reader, you know.”

“Well,” Mark began in a sing-song voice of pure amusement. “Actually you _are._ ”

“Touch telepath,” the Doctor corrected with a dark intoned voice and a look on his face to match. “Not a mind reader.”

“Same thing, _really_ ,” Mark ventured with a smile as he spun a dial on the TARDIS console. “You and mum have that telepathic bond between you, right? It’s always a little heightened when she’s got one of us kids swimming ‘round in there.” He petted his belly and then shrugged and flicked a pair of switches on the console. “I know it’s not as crystal clear as mum coming right out and saying it, and that the feelings you and she share are open to interpretation unless you’re touching directly…” He leaned across the console to flick at another switch and lever to the centre of the console. “But considering you just ate her last Jammie Dodger and she got mad enough about it to kick you out, then the probability that she wants you to go get more are rather on the high side, yeah?” He put his hand on the dematerialization lever and looked to his dad with hopeful question in his eyes. “Can we?”

“Tell me, are you this condescending at school with your friends?”

Mark laughed and shook his head as he pushed up the lever to put the TARDIS into dematerialzation. “Nah. Just with you. Sometimes Lirrea when she says something monumentally stupid.”

“Which,” the Doctor added with a smirk as he pulled the monitor around to keep an eye on their flight diagnostic readings. “According to your last knock em down drag them out fight – which was, oh, _yesterday_ – is every time she opens her mouth.”

“I apologised to her for saying that.”

“You should never have said it in the first place, Mark. Lirrea idolises you. You’re her hero and when you say things like that it really hurts her.”

“I know,” Mark admitted ruefully. “And you’d think – after everything I’ve gone through this year – that I’d know better.”

“You do,” the Doctor assured him with a warm smile. “You do know better. We all make mistakes, kiddo, and as long as we learn from them and don’t make the same mistake twice, then you’re doing okay.” He chuckled. “Take my most recent mistake for example. I ate the last Jammie Dodger from the package and am paying the consequences for such. Never again will I snaffle a Jammie without first getting express written consent from your mother.”

“I upset my little sister last night…”

“You made her cry,” the Doctor corrected. “And not just cry, but sob her little heart out. A Time Lord never makes a lady cry. You’re lucky that your mum was strong enough that she stopped me from doing something rash.” He rubbed sheepishly at the back of his neck. “Your little sister almost got that pony she’s been begging your mother and I for with how devastated she was. I couldn’t bear it. Thankfully your mother stopped me from making _that_ phone call.”

“I know, Dad. I know.” He sighed. “Just so you know, I took my sleeping bag and slept on the floor in her room last night to make sure she knew that, well. That I.   Well. You know…”

“That you love her.”

“Don’t _ever_ make me admit that out loud.”

“I’ll keep it between you and me, then.” He leaned over the console to adjust the gravitational settings. “You forgot about the stabilizer, just so you know.”

“Sorry, Dad.”

“No need to apologise, just keep it in mind for the next time. Depending on the day that vortex can be pretty turbulent. You don’t want to end up being thrown around in here, your mum’d have a fit if I took you home covered in bruises.”

Mark inhaled a deep breath and raised his eyes to his father, who had a smile on his face as wide as the universe itself at being able to fly his TARDIS alongside his boy. He couldn’t help but grin, himself. “You know what, Dad?”

The Doctor passed a look toward his son, keeping his grin firmly in place. “Do I know what?”

Mark strode a fast three steps to the Doctor and then launched himself forward to collide heavily against him in a tight hug. He let out a happy sigh when the Doctor returned his hug strong and true.

“Woah, what’s this for, then?”

“Thanks,” Mark said softly. “For helping.”

“Oohh,” the Doctor breathed with a happy smile. “You’re my boy,” he affirmed with a tightening of his hold. “Of course I’m going to help. No thanks necessary.” He smiled against his hair. “Well. No necessary, but it’s always appreciated.”

Mark turned his head to the side to press his ear against his father’s heart. “I love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, my precious boy,” the Doctor responded with a smile and a happy purr in the back of his throat. “I love all you kids from one side of the universe to the other.”

“And Mum.”

“Definitely love your mum.”

The TARDIS landed with a light bump, which drove father and son to quickly separate from their man-hug and brush themselves down rather awkwardly.

“So, anyway,” Mark said with a exaggerated _manliness_ to his voice.

“Yep. Anyway,” the Doctor answered. He looked to the doorway. “So where’d you send us, anyway? Are we Jammie Dodger hunting for your mum?”

“Nope,” Mark popped back in reply. He thrust his hands into his jeans pocket and fired his father a wink as he strode to the doorway. “I put TARDIS on random. Let her pick.”

“Speaking of mistakes we should never make more than once,” the Doctor warned. “Putting the TARDIS on random is like lighting the fuse of a very powerful explosive.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” he answered with a roll of his eyes. His eyes then locked on the doors that stood innocently in front of his son. “Who knows what terror lies beyond those doors, Mark. Oh, it could be monsters, killer wasps, giant maggots, Daleks, Cybermen, wars, famine, sludge and slime that will eat your skin and melt your brain.” He gave Mark a stern look. “What lies beyond those doors could be the most horrific thing in the galaxy, which means we really probably shouldn’t even slightly entertain the notion of going out there without performing intense analysis of the atmospheric conditions as well as…”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

The stern expression on the Doctors face quickly bloomed into a wide and manic smile of thrill. “Last one out’s on garbage duty for a month!”

“Oh, Dad, you’re on!”


End file.
